


if only they had wished on the shooting star

by lynne_jb



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Forgiveness, Love Confessions, Mind Games, PERIODT, Rescue Missions, Slow Burn, Smut, bechos aren't welcome here, bellamy and clarke finally realizing how shitfaced in love they are, wink wink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 11:37:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19425199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynne_jb/pseuds/lynne_jb
Summary: It seemed every time Bellamy got Clarke back, he lost her again. In a race against the clock, Bellamy seeks help from the Children of Gabriel with Josephine as his hostage. Hell if he was going to lose her again without a fight.Or a season 6 speculative fic you definitely knew you wanted because Jason won't feed us this well.Continues from the end of 6x09





	if only they had wished on the shooting star

The rope grated against the palms of Bellamy’s hands as he lugged Josephine’s flailing body. Her struggle was inconsequential compared to his determination to cross the radiation shield while it was disabled. In another situation, he’d perhaps feel guilty about how roughly he quelled any attempt of hers to escape. But this was his only chance at saving Clarke. He wasn’t willing to jeopardize that even if it meant manhandling Clarke’s body. Finally, Josephine stood, still resisting to his direction, but much more easily swayed. She fell to the ground with a thud once again and he dragged her a few more feet until they had soundly crossed the border.

He held Josephine by her shoulders as he looked backward toward Echo and Emori. With a concerned expression, he instructed, “Stay safe.”

“Save Clarke,” Echo genuinely responded. A wisp of fear crossed Bellamy’s expression before he set off into the forest with Josephine, who still resisted his touch but lost the tenacity she’d held before. Clarke’s fate laid in his hands. Bellamy had already lost her twice. Well, technically on more than two occasions had she left his life. But there were two which haunted him.

The memories flashed before him as he looked at a face that was all too familiar and foreign at the same time. With the doom of Praimfaya approaching, Bellamy had closed the door when Clarke didn’t make it back on time. He’d gotten her back after six years of his decision haunting him. He’d felt the absence of Clarke right until the moment Madi entered his life, already knowing his name.

The second time, agony had wrenched through him like a knife. It felt like he was slowly bleeding out as everything unraveled before him. Bellamy really thought he lost her that time and he wasn’t prepared for a world without Clarke in it. Even the words Clarke’s dead stung on his tongue as he spoke. He had just gotten her back and she was taken away too soon. It seemed the universe was determined to play with him.

He clung to the first sign he could - morse code. The simple tapping of a finger in a rhythm which spelled out alive. Relief had been a welcome feeling and he had committed himself to not losing her again. And that’s what he intended to do: get Clarke back. Hell if he would lose her again. She was too important to him, more important than he'd ever allowed himself to admit.

When Josephine spoke, the voice felt so wrong leaving Clarke’s lips. The smug grin on her lips indicated she had other plans than overpowering him physically. She knew in that arena, she stood no chance.

“Bellamy,” she spoke. He cringed, recalling all the times Clarke had spoken his name. Each time she said it, there was a soft lilt to her voice and eyes. Now, it felt cold to his ears. “You do realize this is suicide, right?”

“Shut up,” he grunted in response, tugging harder on her restraints. She stumbled but kept pace as his speed quickened.

Josephine was silent for a moment before speaking again, “Clarke and I share a mind, you know?” The way her eyebrow quirked upward lit a flame inside him. Bellamy gave her no indication of his acknowledgment. “I’ve seen the darkest parts of herself she keeps hidden. I know her past, her fears, her regrets.” The way she listed them off sounded flippant, as though reducing Clarke’s struggles. He clenched his jaw as she continued. “What I want to know is why you want to save her so badly when she doesn’t even want to be saved herself?”

He stopped in his tracks, turning to her. It was once a face he felt solace in gazing upon, sometimes he would get lost in her eyes and feel their mutual respect and admiration flow through him. The fire he used to see in her eyes was now replaced with ice. But her face was still her face, and perhaps that’s why Josephine was able to get through to him.

Clarke was his weakness and she fully intended to exploit that. Pleased with his reaction, she persisted with her manipulative words, “The once mighty Wanheda, throwing down her arms. Not something you would expect from someone who has spent the majority of her life fighting to survive. But, I guess, when the fight is all you have left, you don’t really have much of anything…” Josephine took a step closer to him. Pain flashed in his eyes and he struggled to not look at her. _It’s not Clarke._

“You’re wrong,” he spoke, swallowing hard. “You’re lying.”

“Am I? She knows how this ends, Bellamy. Either in her death or more war. More lives cast aside for Clarke Griffin. You’re caught in a cycle that can end now. Tell me something, is she really worth all these innocent lives? The girl who has left you behind more times than you can count for her own _selfish_ motives. She was willing to let a bomb drop on your sister. She chose Lexa over you even when she was held hostage, even when she could have gone home to Arkadia, to you. And when you finally think you're on the same page, she left you behind to die without blinking an eye.”

Bellamy’s face remained stoic but it struck a nerve, and Josephine knew it. She stepped even closer until she had to look upward to meet his gaze. “Tell me, it seems like you care an awful lot more about her than she does you.”

 _She cares_ , he reminded himself. _Clarke cares._

“I bet you’re even in love with her,” she scoffed. A nearly imperceptible frown crossed his lips, but he barred his heart from this girl who looked like Clarke but wasn’t. “And she may claim to regret what she did to you, but when she was facing her demons in the mind space, not a single one of them was leaving you. Clarke may talk about forgiveness and regret, but apparently, she doesn't feel too bad about betraying you.”

Her last point hung in the air for a beat as the two remained in their tension-filled position. Bellamy’s face was stoic but still, which Josephine took for a small victory. He turned quickly, tugging on the rope behind him. No more talking.

Hours later, the sun hung low in the sky signaling the end of daylight in little less than an hour. “We camp here,” Bellamy gruffly spoke as he set his bag down inside a cave.

When the meager set-up was finished, Bellamy gathered their sustenance for the night. Taking a small roll of bread, he split it in half, offering one piece to Josephine and keeping the other for himself. Josephine could tell he was avoiding eye contact, which almost made her smile. She was quite perceptive when it came to understanding others and their weaknesses.  
“You do realize this doesn’t need to be an unbearable little trip,” Josephine suggested with a glint in her eye.

“I prefer not talking,” Bellamy grunted, turning to his side as he sat on the floor down. He only faced her to ensure she didn’t break loose of her restraints.

“I’m sure we have things in common,” she pointed out, laying down on the ground beside him. Her side got slightly wet, as the bottom of the cave floor had a slight moist atop it. “Well, other than Clarke,” she added. Bellamy’s jaw stiffened and Josephine sighed, “Bellamy, I hope you know that pretending like I don’t exist only makes me want to fall asleep even more.”

“And?” he snapped, irritation coursing through him at the very sound of her voice.

“And that wouldn’t be the best for your… _precious Clarke_. It speeds the degeneration of our brain—“

A tick of angered crossed Bellamy’s face. “ _Her_ ,” he corrected, cutting her off. His voice was heavy as he felt the need to claim the body as Clarke’s. “Her brain.”

Josephine rolled her eyes and then mocked sympathy for a moment. “Your commitment to her is admirable, if not misplaced. Tell me, had this been anyone else’s body, would you be going to such great lengths?” He looked at her for a moment and that was when she knew her bait was taken. That look in his eyes, she knew it better than anyone. It was what Gabriel looked like when he used to admire her.

Josephine rose from the ground slowly, coming even with his face level. He watched her suspiciously as she neared him. Her eyebrow quirked, almost as a challenge. As her face inched toward his own, he turned his head to look at the floor. Disappointed, Josephine grabbed his chin in her hand to force his gaze back upon her face.

“Why not?” she taunted, tilting her head almost sympathetically. Her words were poison, but they were the truth which made them sting even more. “Because I’m not Echo, or because I’m not _Clarke_?”

Bellamy’s expression was angered, but you could see the hint of guilt in his eyes. Josephine had her answer and, delighted by the prospect at cracking another case, retreated back to her original spot with a soft giggle as she twirled her finger in her hair. She wondered silently if they had ever… you know.

-♞-♛-♞-

Clarke lay in her prison cell, but literally and figuratively, as she gazed up at the ceiling. Her eyes flitted from one sketch to the other before landing on Bellamy’s with a gulp. Her eyes teared as she looked at him, recalling how easily he gave up on her. You’re my family too, she recalling telling him. I promise I’ll never forget that again.

He had hugged her and seemed so genuine when he accepted her apology. Maybe he truly had never forgiven her for leaving him to die. He had lived six years believing she was dead, maybe the second time around was easier.

“ _Shit,_ ” Clarke heard outside the doorway. “ _Shit, shit, shit_.”

Standing up abruptly, Clarke left her confined area to find Josephine. Clarke allowed herself to hope for just a moment, why was Josephine back? She opened the door to the other half of the mind space and Josephine turned wildly with a frazzled look in her eyes.

“What are you doing _here_?!” Josephine screeched when Clarke opened the door.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Clarke echoed in confusion. _Had her message worked? Why wasn’t she erased yet?_

“I must’ve fallen asleep, Bellamy—“ Josephine cut herself off, realizing what she’d just said.

“Bellamy?” Clarke spoke, hope shining in her teary eyes. “What about Bellamy?”

“Congratulations, your little boy toy figured out you're alive,” Josephine murmured before looking around in the cell. Clarke released a breath, relief visible in her whole demeanor. He'd gotten her hail mary attempt at a message. The morse code really had worked.

“Go back to your own side before you get us both killed. I’d prefer to not experience another seizure,” Josephine ordered nastily as she paced the room.

Clarke left Josephine to figure out how to wake up their body and retreated back to her own side of the door. Walking down the hallway, she heard the whispers of other doors.

_We’ve all got a monster inside of us, Clarke._  
_You sent us to die. You still breathing?_  
_Yu gonplei ste odon. In peace may you leave the shore._  
_Together. You don’t have to do this alone._  
_This is on you princess_  
_Brave little knight by his Queen’s side._  
_Love is weakness. You need me? You left me._  
_Start with Bellamy Blake._  
_If you need I’ll give that to you._  
_forgiveness_  
_You want Fine. I’ll give it to you._  
_He made his choice._  
_You’re forgiven._

Clarke stilled, closing her eyes, resigned to the memories. Some good, some bad, but mostly a mix of the two. She focused, trying to attune herself to a singular voice.

_Can you wish on this kind of shooting star?_

With a softened grin, Clarke creaked open the door carrying that voice. She walked inside and the dulcet tone of crickets welcomed her ears. If this was to be her last memory, it would be a good one.

She was standing next to Bellamy, gazing up at the night sky. The red of the flares streaked across the sky, a sign of hope which eventually caused war with the grounders. She couldn’t look at that false beam of hope any longer and instead shifted to the figure beside her. Clarke’s face broke at the sight of Bellamy’s shaven, young face. He was all heart, no head. This was the Bellamy who would have cast aside reason and doubt to save those he loved. This was the Bellamy who would have fought for Clarke’s life and avenged her death. A part of her wondered if he’d reverted back to using his heart after learning of her death, but there was no time for her to ponder any further. He answered her question.

“I wouldn’t even know what to wish for,” he spoke back to her, his voice resigned and his eyes fixed on the flares.

Clarke let out an airy laugh. “I would,” she said softly and he looked down at her now. “I would wish for a different life, one without the blood-stained hands and the constant fight for survival. Maybe if we lived in that one, things would be different,” she cut herself off before saying something she regretted.

Bellamy slowly turned to her and the script of the memory was broken. “Clarke,” he said wistfully, raising his hand to brush the hair framing her face. She blinked and their surroundings changed but his hand finished its path down her cheek. They were in the cave where Roan held Clarke hostage.

“Bellamy,” she whispered after he removed the gag covering her mouth and braced herself for Roan to enter. He didn’t. “You came.”  
  
Young Bellamy’s face contorted into a smile, as though not understanding her surprise. “You really thought I would give up on you that easily?” he spoke.

Clarke bit her lip, not sure of the answer to that. Bellamy had figured out she was alive, maybe he was fighting for her. But before knowing, he had easily resigned himself to her death. “I- I don’t know,” she stuttered out.

He didn’t hear her. Instead, he enclosed her in a hug. Clarke broke down in his arms, they felt so real. It felt like coming home after so long. When she opened her teary eyes again, she looked over Bellamy’s shoulder and the scene had changed. It was after he rescued her from Diyoza.

“You’re really here,” Clarke whispered into his shoulder softly, her voice breaking. She pulled back slowly and rested her forehead against his.

“Clarke you saved us all,” he whispered back to her and she smiled sadly. “I wish…”

“What do you wish?” Clarke asked, withdrawing hopefully.

“I wish I had known,” Bellamy revealed. “Known you were alive. Clarke, I mourned you for six years, wishing every day I had waited just a little longer. But you told me to use my head”

“Leaving me, you made the right choice,” she reassured him, her face softening. “And now you’re home.”

Clarke’s face twisted in confusion as the scene before her faded into a landscape. Looking down at her hand, she saw her radio. “Home for over a year now… why haven’t you?”

She paused before deciding to add more to her message. “I know its crazy, radioing you every day. But it keeps me sane. You keep me sane. You keep me centered. I’m lucky to have you… I- How did I leave you? How did I forget how important you are to me?”

“You radioed me every day,” spoke a voice behind her. It was Bellamy, on his knees, in the fighting pit. “And you left me to die in the fighting pits.” His voice was full of malice.

Clarke shook her head, taking a step back to steady herself. “I’m sorry, Bellamy. You know I’m sorry. You forgave me.”

“Did I?” he challenges. “Do you really not know how it feels to be betrayed by the one person you trust most?!” Clarke thought back, remembering the way Finn had lied to her, the way Lexa had abandoned her. She fell to her knees on the floor and lowered her head. When she looked upward, she was in Arkadia. Her hair in dreds and her hands in chains.

Of all her distorted memories so far, this one hurt most. Bellamy had kneeled in front of her. “I need you,” she pleaded.

“You need me? You left me,” he reminded her before adding, “ _Twice._ ”

Clarke shook her head. “Bellamy I-“

“The mighty _Wanheda_ , I shouldn’t be surprised you care so little—“

“I care!” she interrupted earnestly, choking over the words. “I care… so much. Bellamy, how could you not know? I wish things were different. I wish I hadn’t left you either time. I- I care about you more than I should. I wish either choice could have been easy for me, but it wasn’t. Living without you in my life is just surviving.”

Clarke closed her eyes, bracing herself for an aggressive response, another that cut incisively at the wounds she carried deep within her heart. But there was nothing. She opened her eyes slowly. She was in Becca’s mansion, which always felt too pristine for her. Looking down, her clothes were normal, a simple long sleeve shirt and yoga pants. Clarke sighed in relief that the scene had changed once again before her soul was wounded any further.

Sensing movement out of the corner of her eye, Clarke jumped and turned. A small figure dashed across the hallway and Clarke warily followed. When she got to the end of the hallway, the figure turned back toward her. Blonde hair, braided on each side framed the face of a beautiful freckled child. Clarke’s face softened before the little girl ran further away.

“Wait, no,” Clarke warned, chasing after the apparition. Somehow her surroundings felt like more of a construct rather than reality, different from the previous encounters she’d had inside her mind space.

Finally catching sight of the girl against as she rounded the corner, the little girl dashed across the room to Bellamy. He swept her into his arms as Clarke watched in a startled admiration. This wasn’t a memory, Clarke remembered. This was a dream. One she’d had in her solitude after praimfaya. Immense happiness overtook Clarke as she watched him sweep up the child in his arms. The look on his face was of utter joy as he stared at the blonde-haired child. Placing a kiss to her forehead, his gaze shifted with admiration toward Clarke.

“What are you still doing up?” he asked his daughter softly. This time, the tears in Clarke’s eyes were of happiness rather than grief.

“I told momma I wouldn’t sleep unless you tucked me in,” the little girl stumbled over her words.

“Is that right?” Bellamy asked, with a mock seriousness to his voice.

“Of course it is,” the little girl answered, crossing her arms. “Why would I lie?”

With the freckled girl on his hip, he walked toward Clarke and took her hand silently as they walked into the little girl’s room. Tucking her in for the night, Bellamy brushed back the blonde lock of hair that had covered his daughter’s eye. “Goodnight, princess,” he whispered.

Wistfully, Clarke wished this was real. Maybe it could have been if they had wished on that shooting star. But they hadn't, and this peaceful future she longed for was out of the cards now. It was just a meaningless dream she’d had one night out of loneliness. And the next day, she had met Madi.

**Author's Note:**

> to be continued...
> 
> let me know what you thought! I'm thinking this will have three chapters at the moment and hopefully, I'll have them all uploaded before the hiatus is over xx


End file.
